


If The Men Know We Can Shapeshift...

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [43]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock doesn't know, But his sister is a fan, Darcy Lewis is a Youtube makeup celebrity, Darcy has one of those channel names you pick on a lark and then become famous for, F/M, TripleAgent!Rumlow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Darcy tries to keep her secret identity--Youtube makeup celebrity--hidden at work. People at SHIELD don't take makeup seriously. But Brock Rumlow's sister is a huge fan.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484168
Comments: 142
Kudos: 594





	1. Red Velvet Matte Lipstick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notahotlibrarian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notahotlibrarian/gifts).



> *I own nothing!

“Hey, sweetheart,” Brock Rumlow said, stopping in the hallway on his way out of the office in DC. “Got any fun plans for your days off?” SHIELD was closing for the holidays. Darcy Lewis looked up at him from her desk near the door in Foster's lab and smiled. On the wall behind her desk, there was a framed photo of Dolly Parton and taped up twinkle lights in the shape of flamingos. Somehow, she'd put Santa hats on them.

“Hi, Brock,” she said. “We're just hanging out in town. Going to see the light show at the zoo.” She smiled wider. “First holiday in DC and all that. Are you leaving town?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Seeing my family in New York. You want a souvenir?” He grinned at her. He was casually friendly with Jane Foster’s assistant and Thor’s Lightning Sister. She was a nice coworker. And thankfully, good in a crisis. At least, that's what Foster told everyone. To him, Darcy Lewis seemed like a sweet college kid, always wrapped in a big scarf and reading novels or listening to music. She baked desserts constantly. His entire team loved her cupcakes. He'd even been talked into paleo blondies a few weeks ago. They were amazing. He'd slowly rationed out the pan so they'd last longer. “I can bring you back an ugly snow globe and something from a bodega,” he teased. He'd gotten into the habit of bringing her weird souvenirs or chocolate as a joke. And as a thank you for making a birthday cake for Agent Evans and helping him track down Christmas gifts for his relatives and the woman he’d been dating, Miranda, while he was out of town for work.

“I know you're messing with me, but I'd love one,” Darcy said. “Is Miranda going with you?”

“Nah,” he said. “We broke up.” He shrugged. “She wanted to spend Christmas in Nassau.”

“I'm sorry!” Darcy said, looking genuinely sympathetic.

“It's okay, Lewis. I'm a tough guy,” Brock said. He playfully batted at the pom-pom on the top of her hat. “I'll make it. I just need to survive Christmas at home.” 

  
  


* * *

“Hi, Ma,” Brock announced. He’d used his key to get in the house.

“You know Carmel Von Squeeze?” Brock’s sister shrieked, when he walked into his mother’s kitchen in the Bronx. “Oh my Gawdddd!” Fallon yelled.

“What?” he said. He'd taken the subway into the borough, insistent on being independent. His mother Angela--currently cooking--shrugged.

“I have no idea what she's talking about,” Angela said. “Where's your girlfriend?”

“Not my girlfriend anymore,” he said. 

“Oh, no--” his mother began.

“Will someone pay attention!” Fallon said. “He knows a celebrity, Ma!”

“What?” he said wryly. “And I know plenty of famous people, I gave Captain America a black eye once--”

“Jack said he gave you one,” Angela said.

“He lies,” Brock joked, coming over to hug Angela. He kissed the top of her head. She smelled like hairspray and perfume. “Never trust him, Ma. He's part kangaroo.”

“She's on your Insta!” Fallon said, rising and waving her phone in his face. Brock frowned. It was a photo of him and Darcy at Evans’ birthday party. 

“Who?” Brock said.

“The makeup artist--her, the brunette. That's her YouTube name, Carmel Von Squeeze. She's famous,” Fallon said. “I can't remember her real name, but she knows Thor!”

“Darcy?” he said, puzzled. 

“That's it!” she said. It took a few minutes, but Fallon explained that Darcy's videos had thousands of followers. 

“People watch her put on makeup?” Brock said. 

“She's a vintage specialist, you don't understand. She does pin ups and movie recreations. She's like an artist with eyeshadow.” At his perplexed expression, Fallon sighed. “She makes money off the ad revenues,” his sister explained.

“That's nice,” his mother said. “Convenient.”

“I cannot believe you're working with her,” Fallon said, clearly envious.

“We're friends,” he said, smirking. “She makes me desserts and I buy her tacky souvenirs when I'm in Italy for work.”

“What?” Fallon shrieked. “Did you buy her that Pope-themed bottle opener? She used it in a video.”

“What?” Angela said.

“Yeah,” Brock said. He laughed. “And pasta shaped like little dicks. She's funny as hell. She loves that kind of thing.”

“Brock!” his mother said. “That sounds sacrilegious.”

“The bottle opener or the pasta, Ma?” he asked, grinning.

But he was genuinely shocked when Fallon showed him Darcy’s YouTube videos before dinner. Darcy was unrecognizable. “Jesus,” he muttered, staring at her onscreen. Her lips were full and red, her whole face seemed somehow more alluring and dramatic, and her cleavage spilled out of a low-cut top. “I wouldn't have recognized her unless I heard her voice,” he said. On the phone, Darcy was talking.

 _“This is my favorite new matte lipstick from Lime Crime, it's kinda like a blood red and you can either blot it like a stain or wear it full on like this. I love that the name is Red Velvet, because that's my favorite cake--”_ she was saying.

“But that is her,” he added. She'd made red velvet cake for Evans' birthday party. 

“Duh,” Fallon said.

“She makes great red velvet cake,” he added.

“You don’t even eat that,” Fallon griped. Brock laughed. He rewound the video to watch her put on fake eyelashes again. 

_“Okay, so my eyes are slightly different--”_

“She's so _beautiful,_ I wish I looked like that,” Fallon said dreamily. 

“She just looks like a normal girl at work,” he said, feeling stunned. “She wears glasses.” He couldn't stop watching them on his phone. The videos were somehow mesmerizing. He watched, rapt, as she transformed herself into Elizabeth Taylor, complete with fake diamond earrings and Cleopatra eyeliner.

_“I can't make my eyes look violet without contact lenses, but I can play up the blue color with purple shadow and eggplant liner--it's softer than black--whoops. You can always clean up your line with a q-tip. I do this all the time--”_

It was like watching the girl next door transform into a movie star before his eyes. And she was more flirtatious online than he'd ever seen her be at work. Darcy winked at the camera and his jaw dropped. His mother even scolded him for watching Darcy coat her eyelids in Cleopatra style glitter during dinner. 

“What are you doing?” Angela said.

“Nothing, Ma,” Brock lied. He had the phone on mute and hadn't expected her to catch him. 

“Uh-huh,” Angela said, arching an eyebrow. She leaned closer. “This is the work girl? She looks like Liz Taylor!”

“No, she doesn’t,” Fal cut in. “Angelina Jolie, maybe.” What followed was an intense debate on Darcy’s resemblance to various women. “Who do you think she looks like?” Fal asked him, clearly determined to win.

“She looks...great,” Brock said slowly. He’d always thought Darcy was cute, in a young way. He hit a few buttons on his phone.

“What are you doing?” Fal said.

“I’m calling her,” he said. “You want an autograph or something? She’ll talk to you, she likes people.”

“What?” Fal said, almost screeching.

“Dear God,” his mother said. “My ears!”

* * *

“Pffhhht,” Darcy said. “This sucks.” She was staring at her face in the mirror of her vanity. They’d set it up in the corner of the living room, for better video lighting. 

“What’s wrong?” Jane said from the kitchen. She was snacking while reading an article on her phone. Thor was snoozing on the couch, cat purring on his chest.

“I can't work with my new bangs"--she'd gotten Bettie bangs for fun, but her cowlicks were driving her crazy--"my skin’s all broken out, I feel _blah,_ I’m bloated,” Darcy listed, sighing. She’d been trying to practice a new look, but nothing seemed to be working right. Her eyeliner was annoyingly messy and uneven, a new foundation she was sampling had turned out orangey. “I just can’t shake this crappy mood.”

“PMS,” Jane supplied crisply. 

“I know that,” Darcy grumbled. “But what do I do about it?”

“Hmm,” Jane said. “Have brownies?”

“You just want brownies,” Darcy shot back.

“Yes,” Jane said gleefully. “Don’t forget our zoo thing. That'll be fun.”

“Jane, I cannot live on zoos alone,” Darcy said. Jane was staring off into space. “What?”

“Ask Rumlow on a date. He broke up with Melinda,” Jane said. “Stop denying that you like him--”

“He doesn’t like me,” Darcy said. “Not that way, anyway.” She sighed again. “He’s too damn nice.” Jane was audibly scoffing when Darcy’s phone dinged. “Shit, that’s Brock,” she said out loud. “Why is he video calling me?” she said.

“Answer him,” Jane said.

“Don’t you be smug about this,” Darcy said. She tapped the phone. “Hellooo?” she said. His face appeared the screen, all handsome and tan, even from a weird phone angle.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. "Did you do something with your hair?"

"I got bangs," Darcy said. There was a squeal. It sounded like someone was with him in the room. 

_“Oh my Gawd,”_ a female voice said. He turned the phone and Darcy saw a dark-haired woman across from him, face delighted. 

“That’s my sister, Fallon,” Brock said. “She’s a big fan.” He grinned at her.

“Ohhhh,” Darcy said. “Hi! I’m Darcy! That’s sweet--” Abruptly, he turned the phone back to face him.

“You got a whole secret identity you’ve been hiding from me, huh?” Brock said. 

“What?” Darcy said. She heard a giggling noise behind her. Jane sat on the couch, grinning at her.

“Carmel Von Squeeze?” he said, laughing. “What’s about?”

“Oh God,” Darcy said, as his sister hissed and started scolding him. Jane started laughing out loud then.

“Don’t you fucking embarrass her, you asshole. I will kill you dead!” Fallon yelled.

“Don’t be rude in front of strangers!” another voice said. 

“That’s my mother. Ma, say hi,” Brock said. He turned the phone and Darcy got a brief glimpse of an older woman, evidently glaring at Brock’s sister.

“Ma, he’s the one being rude,” Fallon said.

“Hi!” Darcy said, waving politely. She was beginning to feel a little dizzy. Brock turned the phone again. He was still grinning. She heard his mother say hello. “Hi, Mrs. Rumlow!” she called out. 

“I keep telling Fal you don’t look like that at work,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “No." He was looking at her curiously, like she should be talking. So, she tried to explain. "It was just a fun hobby I got after London. I was really into retro stuff and old movies and red lipstick--then Dita von Teese was on this episode of _CSI_ playing a character called Rita Von Squeeze, so I made a Youtube channel as a joke with the Carmel Von Squeeze name. Or an homage, really.”

“Who?” Brock said, frowning.

“He knows nothing!” Fallon said urgently. “He’s a complete gym rat with no taste!”

“Hey, I got taste,” Brock said, shooting his sister a dark look.

“She’s a--a retro dancer. Sorta,” Darcy said. She tried to explain, conscious that his mother was there, listening to them. She felt herself blush. “Dita Von Teese.”

“A retro dancer?” Jane said from behind her.

“Shut up,” Darcy mouthed over her shoulder. “That’s Thor and Jane. Wave hello to the Rumlows, Jane.” Brock turned his phone and Darcy saw Fallon peering at the screen.

“Holy shit,” Fallon said. “Thor has a cat?”

“It’s my cat,” Darcy said.

“It’s Carmel’s cat,” Brock cracked. 

“Stop making jokes,” Fallon said.

“It’s fine, really,” Darcy insisted. She looked back at the phone. Brock was still smiling at her. “It’s funny when people call me Carmel, but also kind of cool? Anyways,” she said slowly. “That’s what I do for fun.”

“I like it,” he told her. “You shoulda told me. I could’ve brought you weird makeup.”

“Ohhh,” Darcy said. “That would be fun.”

“You look great in makeup,” Brock said. “I mean that.”

“Thank you?” Darcy said dubiously. Was he joking? He was positively smirking now. 

“You are terrible at compliments,” Fallon cut in. 

“Fallon wants your autograph,” Brock said gleefully. 

“Awwww,” Darcy said. She raised her voice, so Fallon could hear. “That’s super nice of you! I’ll autograph anything you want, just have Brock bring it back to DC.”

“Thank you,” Fallon called out. Then she whispered. “Oh my Gawd, Ma.”

“She’s very nice,” Darcy heard Rumlow’s mother say.

“I told you she was,” he said. He grinned. “Especially for my most famous friend.”

“I’m your most famous friend?” Darcy said.

“Now you are,” he said. “Your secret’s out, sweetheart.” He tilted the phone screen. “Whaddya want me to bring back for you?”

“W-what?” Darcy said.

“C’mon, Fallon’ll be walking on air if she can tell all her friends she went shopping with me for Carmel Von Squeeze,” he said. “What ridiculous New York thing do you want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where this is going, but notahotlibrarian wanted YoutubeMakeupArtist!Darcy, so here we are. My whole life (goth-y leather jacket wearing teen phase + Kevyn Aucoin book collection, etc.) has led me to this moment.
> 
> Also, Kat Dennings wore Lime Crime's Red Velvet in Dollface: https://www.whowhatwear.com/kat-dennings-dollface-hulu
> 
> Title inspiration: SailorJ's (sadly now deleted/private) makeup video with the meme-able "if the men know we can shapeshift, they're gonna tell the church" contouring joke.


	2. Christmas Snuggles & Melted Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Are these places always so fucking loud?” Brock asked Fallon. The music in Sephora was thudding. “It’s like a damn club.” They’d gone to the one on 34th Street in Manhattan. Fallon said it was the flagship store. It took up almost an entire block.

“Like you go to clubs--” she said, waving dismissively. It didn’t seem to register with his sister.

“Hey, I drink,” he said. “I’ve been to clubs. I dance and shit.” 

“You pick up women and you work,” Fallon said. “You can’t dance for shit.” She was all jittery and nervous. “What does she want?” she asked, ringing her hands. 

“She won’t tell me anything specific,” Brock said. “So, we’ve gotta wing it. That’s why you’re here. I don’t know anything about makeup--Jesus Christ, this foundation is ninety-eight dollars.” He’d picked up a bottle out of curiosity.

“It’s Nars,” Fallon said, shrugging.

“It’s fucked up, is what it is,” Brock said, shaking his head.

“I thought you wanted to do this?” she asked. 

“I do,” he said. “It’s tradition. I just didn’t know it would be so fucking expensive.”

“Don’t be cheap,” Fallon said. “Does she color her hair?”

“I don’t know--maybe? It’s brown,” he said. “You know all the videos she’s done. Why?”

“Maybe she wants a hair oil?” Fallon asked, holding up a bottle.

“Hair oil?” he repeated. He shook his head. “Hold on, I’m gonna get somebody--” He flagged down an employee. 

“Yes, sir?” she said.

“I’m looking for something you don’t have at most of the stores,” he said. “I’m buying a gift. For a woman."

“An exclusive?” the sales associate asked. Brock looked at Fallon. 

“Yes, that’s what he’s looking for,” Fallon cracked. 

“We have La Mer and Jo Malone here--” the associate said.

“What?” Brock said. “Who?” Fallon started to laugh.

“Nothing” she said. At the employee’s puzzled look, she added, “the woman he’s buying the gift for is very attractive.” She leaned in, eyes alight. “Do you know Carmel von Squeeze from Youtube?”

“Oh my God,” the associate said. “The makeup artist?”

“You’re just gonna tell everybody?” Brock said.

* * *

“You seem happy today,” Jane said to Darcy. They were watching _Home Alone_ in their pajamas and bathrobes. "Did you have fun on your errands?” she asked. Jane passed over the popcorn bowl to Darcy over Thor’s lap. Her look at Darcy was pointed. Darcy knew what that meant. She stuck her tongue out. Darcy had gone over to water Brock’s plants today; she was his plant person. Jane was inferring something again.

“Aye, very happy,” Thor said.

“Those were fine. I did my holiday video while you and Thor were gone,” Darcy said, dodging the question. She’d done a video about her favorite Bath and Body Works’ holiday scents, Vanilla Bean Noel and Raspberry Sugar. She’d done two matching makeup looks, too. Darcy had found the perfect colorful products to match their packaging: Olive Oil eyeliner from Ulta and Colour Pop’s Amaze eyeshadow for the Vanilla Bean look and I Heart Revolution’s Raspberry Icing eyeshadows for the Raspberry Sugar-themed tutorial. The pink eyeshadows were in a palette shaped like a sprinkle-covered donut. She loved cute makeup. “It turned out cute,” she insisted. That was why she was happy. Right? 

“I think she’s in love with Brock,” Jane said, elbowing Thor and reaching for a fistful of popcorn.

“Hey!” Darcy said.

“I knew that,” Thor said casually.

“What do you mean?” Darcy asked, staring. He smiled. Darcy sighed. “It’s that obvious?” she said, alarmed. Did everyone at work know she had...a tiny crush? That was what it was, she thought, just a crush. Perfectly innocent! She was his plant person. 

“You are happier whenever he is present,” Thor said. “I think you should ask him to dinner.”

“Ha ha,” Jane said gleefully. 

“Shut up or I’ll make you watch the Eloise movies again,” Darcy threatened grimly.

“She’s just spoiled,” Jane said.

“I like Eloise,” Thor said.

“Me, too,” Darcy said. “She’s fun.” She leaned around him to glare at Jane. “Be quiet about Brock.” 

* * *

“You can’t buy those,” Fallon scolded. “They’re not the best makeup!” Brock rolled his eyes at his sister and put the eye shadow palette in his basket. It was brightly colored and glittery. The displays and packaging for this stuff had caught his eye--all pink and bright colors. It was less serious. More playful.

“It’s gingerbread themed,” he told Fallon. “She loves stuff like that.”

“You don’t know anything about makeup,” she scolded.

“She’s got a framed portrait of Dolly Parton,” he said. “She’ll like these.” All the fancy stuff seemed either pretentious or potentially a minefield to him. There were too many things about anti-aging and anti-acne. He didn’t want to insult Darcy. Or come across as less fun than before. But this stuff was different. 

“She does?” Fallon asked. “Dolly Parton?”

“It’s in her office,” he said. “I’ve been to her house, too.” His sister looked awed, then frowned at his basket again.

“Shut up and stop bragging. You could get her fancier makeup,” she said. 

“She’s fun, Fal,” he said. “Pasta dicks, remember?”

“I can’t believe you know her,” Fallon repeated. 

“You keep saying that,” Brock said, chuckling. He turned back to the lit shelf in front of him. “You think she’d like”--he read off the packaging with a grin-- “Christmas Snuggles and Melted Kisses lipgloss?” It was a mini set. He tossed it in the shopping basket.

“Oh my God,” Fallon said. “You do--you’re in love with her!”

“What?” Brock said. He shook his head automatically. “This isn’t love, Fal.”

“It’s not?” Fallon said.

“No, no,” he said. “This isn’t what being in love is like--we’re friends. I like being around her. She’s fun. It’s not like dating.”

“No?” she said, crossing her arms.

“This is not what love feels like,” he insisted. She grimaced.

“Ok, fine.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend I felt like this about,” he mused, as they walked down an aisle. There were little stations with different items at the end of each display. His reflection looked back at him. He tilted his head. Helen Cho had healed him last year, but it was still odd not to see burn scars from his undercover Crossbones days. “You think I need some face cream?” he asked his sister. “What is this?”

“This is sad,” Fallon muttered, as he made a face at a weird mascara wand. 

“I heard that,” Brock said. He glanced around. “What else is fun?”

  
  


* * *

Darcy was going to her bedroom for a bottle of nail polish when her phone rang. She fished it out of her bathrobe pocket. It was Brock. “Hello?” she said, hoping Jane wouldn’t overhear. The scientist didn’t need encouragement.

“Why you whispering?” Brock asked, voice low. He sounded amused.

“Um, Thor and Jane are watching an Eloise movie, I’m trying to be quiet,” Darcy lied. It was a good lie. She was proud of her own cleverness. 

“Eloise who?” Brock asked. Darcy smiled.

“Oh my gosh, you don’t know Eloise? Eloise from the Plaza? It’s a children’s book. She’s a little girl who lives at the hotel,” Darcy said.

“Can’t say I’ve read a children’s book in, uh, awhile,” he said, voice warm. “I did go makeup shopping today, though.”

“Brock!” Darcy said. She had tried to discourage him from shopping for makeup for her. It seemed...weird? More significant than their usual jokey gifts, somehow. She swallowed and pressed the phone closer to her ear. “Please don’t spend a lot of money,” she said.

“Yeah, I had no idea makeup costs so fucking much,” he teased. “How much money are you wearing right now? Three-hundred bucks or something?”

“Oh God, don’t ask me, I’ll feel guilty I didn’t give it to charity!” Darcy said.

“Your makeup?” He sounded incredulous.

“No, no, the makeup money,” Darcy said. “Sometimes, I feel guilty about my materialism, you know? That what I’m doing is a waste.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s your money,” Brock said. “You should have fun with it. What else would you do?”

“Give it to UNICEF!” Darcy insisted, sighing. “If I was a better person.” She wondered if he thought she was shallow. Plenty of people did, when they found out about the Youtube channel; they didn’t get makeup. Would he think less of her?

“You’re a great person,” he scolded her. “You keep this up, I’ll have to buy you more makeup.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, surprised. “Are you threatening me with lip gloss?” she asked, laughing.

“Yeah,” he said. “One of those real sticky ones, gets all over a guy’s mouth when you kiss ‘em.”

“Oh, no!” Darcy said. “That’s a terrible threat.”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling.

“You’re evil, just evil,” she said.

“How’d your day go?” Brock said. They always talked about their day. That felt safe. She talked about humdrum, everyday things for a bit. 

“Your plants are doing really well,” she told him.

“You talk to ‘em?” Brock said. She could practically hear his smile.

"Of course!" Darcy said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highlights of fun makeup packaging for this chapter:
> 
> Too Faced! Christmas Snuggles and Melted Kisses set:  
> 
> 
> I Heart Revolution's Donut eyeshadow palette:  
> 


	3. Magnetic Lashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Do you want us to bring you back somethi---what are you doing?” Jane asked, as Darcy blinked furiously. She was sitting in front of her mirror with a full face of makeup on. Jane and Thor were going out to dinner. Darcy was staying in for...reasons.

“Magnetic lashes,” Darcy said. “Ow! I think I just got lash in my eye.” Jane looked at her quizzically.

“I thought you were just calling Brock?” she said. “Not doing a channel video?”

“We are, but it’s a Zoom call and now he has expectations,” Darcy said, fretting. She scrunched up her mouth. She had lipstain on; she thought that would look nice the longest. “It’s--he wanted to have a Zoom dinner while he was in New York,” she admitted slowly. 

“It’s a _date?!”_ Jane shouted.

“No, no---” Darcy began, waving her hands.

“Yes,” Thor said, walking into the living room, “‘tis a date.”

“What?” Darcy said. “Traitor! How would you know?”

“She was smiling at the phone,” Thor told Jane. “Obviously, it is a date.”

“Ughhhhh,” Darcy said. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if I mess up somehow?” She looked at Jane for help. “What do I do, Jane? What if he just wants to be friends with me?”

“Show him your boobs,” Jane said.

“Thanks, very helpful,” Darcy grumbled. She readjusted her fake eyelashes with a sigh.

“You look really nice,” Jane said, smiling gently. She glanced at Thor. “Get your coat, so we can give them some privacy.”

“Sure,” Thor said. He stopped at the vanity and gave Darcy’s shoulder a squeeze. “It will be all right.”

“Thanks, guys,” Darcy said. She fixed her lashes and stood to put food and wine on the table. It was dinner, she’d need actual dinner, she reminded herself. She’d sort of forgotten about that.

* * *

Her heart was thudding when the video call connected with a series of beeps and Brock’s face appeared on the screen. Actually, he had his head turned and was hovering a little, so the first thing she saw was his neck. “Hi,” Darcy said, feeling a little breathless. The man looked nice in a henley. She didn’t understand how he stayed so tan. Maybe he was just naturally like that, she thought enviously.

“Hi,” he said, sitting down and grinning at her. Brock looked relaxed, Darcy thought. She didn’t feel relaxed. She was jittery. “Hold on, I’m still getting set up here,” he said.

“Set up?” Darcy echoed. He turned the laptop so she could see the table. There were tea lights flickering next to a plate of food. “Oooh, fancy,” she said, then wondered if she sounded too impressed.

“Everything is Fallon’s idea,” Brock told her. He peered at the screen. “What are you eating?” he asked.

“Trader Joe’s mac ‘n cheese,” Darcy admitted. He laughed. 

“That’s cute, Lewis,” he told her. “Remind me to take you someplace decent when I’m back home.”

“Trader Joe’s is decent!” she insisted. “I put it in a real bowl. How’s your day been?” 

“I went Christmas shopping for Ma with every other lunatic in this city,” Brock said.

“Oh yeah?” Darcy said. She sighed wistfully. “Did you see any holiday windows?” she asked him. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not a tourist, Lewis. I grew up here.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Darcy asked. “Besides, those are fun, you Grinch!” She made sure that her voice was a little offended. 

“Mm-hmm,” he said. She tried not to thrill at the sound of his voice.

“Where are your mom and Fallon?” she asked. 

“They dragged me to the train show at the damn gardens,” he said, mouth turning up at the corners. “Like tourists. And then they went shopping again.”

“You’re in a mood tonight,” she told him, eating a bite of macaroni.

“I feel lousy,” he said, chuckling. “Ma keeps asking when I’m going to settle down, Fallon asks about you, ain’t nobody asking about me tonight, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you poor man,” Darcy said. “What qualifies as Christmas appropriate to you, anyway?” He grinned at her.

“You get yourself a nice slice of pizza and go down to the Garabedian’s on Pelham,” he said. “Biggest, craziest Christmas house you’ve ever seen. They’ve been doing it for thirty years.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “Eating pizza at somebody’s house?”

“You don’t go in, you just stand on the sidewalk, honey. You could bring your coffee,” he told her. “It’s great. Kids love it.”

“Yeah?” she said. “Pizza on the sidewalk.”

“You gotta be there. You know how kids are,” he said. “No adult ever liked anything as much as kids like a plastic Nativity.” He took a bite of food, then smiled. Darcy was nodding when he spoke again. “Except you, maybe,” he teased.

“Shut up,” Darcy said, flustered at how easily he’d nailed her. 

“Then you gotta go home and watch _It’s A Wonderful Life,_ so you can heckle Jimmy Stewart,” Brock said, stabbing what looked like spinach with his fork.

“You heckle Jimmy?” Darcy said, laughing.

“The man has the best wife in town, treats her and the kids like shit,” he complained.

“I always thought it was very insulting to librarians to assume she’d turn into a scared frump if he wasn’t around,” Darcy said, sipping her wine. “She would’ve been a badass single lady.” She was having a weirdly great time. She smiled at him.

“What?” he said.

“This is a fun Zoom dinner,” she confessed.

“Oh, I think you need more wine,” he said. 

“I’ll fill it up,” Darcy said.

“Don’t fake me out,” he told her. “Put the glass where I can see it--there you go, right to the top, sweetheart. That’s my girl.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “Whoops, I spilled a little. Damn. This is five dollar rosé, Brock Rumlow, don’t you laugh at me.”

“You’re a real wine connoisseur,” he said.

“Yes, I am,” she said. Jokingly, she leaned down and slurped wine out of the glass as it sat on the table. Darcy glanced up at the screen. Was it her imagination or was he looking at her differently? “I’m very classy,” she said, “as you can see.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, raising his glass. She smiled at him. 

* * *

They’d finished eating and were both a little sloshed when there was a noise on his side of the screen. Darcy heard distant voices. “Shit,” Brock said. “That’s Ma and Fal. Fal’s totally gonna crash our good time, baby.” He made a face. “I’m sneaking you upstairs,” he told her. “Hang on.” 

“Okay,” Darcy said. He shut the laptop and when he opened it several moments later, she realized they were in his bedroom. “Is this your childhood bedroom?” Darcy asked, wildly curious. The laptop was sitting next to his pillow.

“Yeah,” he said. “Lemme get my fucking wine.” He disappeared for a moment, then returned with his glass and wine bottle. He locked the door and sank down on the bed, laughing. “They almost fucking caught me.”

“You’re drunk!” Darcy said, giggling. “But I like your poster.” He grinned. She recognized the cover of a Tom Petty album hanging across the room.

“That’s fucking autographed, right there,” Brock said. She could tell he was wasted because he was chattier than when he was sober. “I thought it was safer here than my real apartment. I fucking loved “All The Wrong Reasons,” he slurred, laying on the bed beside his laptop. He turned his head to look at her. “Why don’t I get to see your bedroom?” he asked.

“You want to see my room?” Darcy said, trying not to blush.

“I can’t see your room?” he said.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Lemme take my wine in first, make sure there’s no underwear lying around---”

“Boo,” he said.

“Don’t pass out!” she scolded, as she left the table. When she opened the laptop on her bed a few minutes later, her jaw dropped. “Are you naked?” she said. He was visibly shirtless. Her camera angle ended somewhere around his third or fourth perfect ab muscle. And a spray of dark hair, presumably above his belly button, she saw, swallowing a little.

“No, no,” he said. “I just took that damn shirt off. I hate shirts.”

“When you drink?” she said, trying not to giggle.

“I hate shirts every fucking day, sweetheart,” Brock said. “That shit is pointless. Don’t grin at me”--he pointed at the screen-- “you know this. Fucking collars choke you, you’ve got no range of motion--”

“Lucky you’re a man, then,” she said, “women can't just go around taking our shirts off when we feel like it.” He looked at her.

“Sure you can,” Brock said. “You can take off your shirt, I don’t fucking care.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “Riiiiight.”

“I’m not joking,” he said. “Let women take their shirts off. Anybody hassles you, punch ‘em in the face--”

“You’re so wasted,” Darcy said, finally losing it and dissolving into giggles and lying down. She laughed until she cried--and wriggled one of her arms out of the sleeve of her sweater. She slipped the sweater over her head. When she looked up and crawled back into frame, he was peering at the screen.

“How many damn Christmas lights you got in that bedroom?” he said, before she sat up again. Brock’s jaw dropped. “Fuck.” 

“What?” Darcy said, looking down at her bra. “It’s purple.” She grinned at him. “I’m leaving this on, though.”

“Yeah,” he said, blinking. 

“You okay?” she asked, reaching for her wine glass. She was a little tipsy and flirty. So what? 

“I’m good,” he said. 

“Did you want to see my lights flash?” she said, feeling like she’d gotten his full attention for once. 

“Yeah,” Brock said. “I wanna see ‘em.” She put the glass down and reached for the remote for her twinkle lights on the nightstand. 

“Voila,” she told him. “Just them?” she said, emboldened. “Or did you want to see something else?” There was a pause. His eyelids looked heavy. She heard him take a ragged breath.

“Everything,” he said.

“What?” Darcy said.

“I want to see everything,” Brock told her. 

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Both of us?”

“Yeah,” he said. His hands moved first. As soon as she realized what he was doing, Darcy reached for her leggings.

* * *

Darcy woke up and looked around blearily. It sounded like Thor and Jane were home. The laptop had disconnected their video feed, she realized. Also, she was totally naked. “Oh God,” she said out loud. “Shit! Shit!” She did the first instinctive thing she could think of and slammed the laptop shut. Then she crawled under the covers.

“You awake?” Jane called.

“Noooooo!” Darcy said. She needed to find pajamas, she thought desperately. She hopped out of bed again and yanked a nightshirt out of her dresser in a blind panic. “Underwear,” she murmured. “I need underwear. And a new work situation.”

“How much did you drink last night?” Jane asked, when Darcy shuffled out of her bedroom for coffee in the morning. 

“Too much,” Darcy said. “Definitely too much.” She looked at Jane. “What about going to Norway again?” she said.

“You hate Norway!” Jane said. “What’s gotten into you? Are your eyelashes still on?”

  
  
  
  



	4. Highlighting and Contouring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I own nothing!

Darcy spent the entire day silently panicking about Brock. To distract herself, she decided to practice a new tutorial. It had been on her list for awhile. Brigitte Bardot. She had bought a blonde wig for it and decided to trim curtain bangs before she did the makeup. She watched multiple bang trimming videos on YouTube, put on some Serge Gainsbourg, and had several cups of coffee. “I can do this,” she whispered out loud. “I’m a boss,” Darcy said. “A total boss lady. Femme du boss.”

“What are you doing?” Jane asked, wandering into the living room in her sweatpants. 

“Practicing Brigitte Bardot,” Darcy said, point cutting her fringe right at the bottom of her nose. She rewound her video and watched the tutorial again. 

“Okay,” Jane said, as if Darcy with sharp scissors under her nose was totally normal. “Do you want wine?”

“Noooo,” Darcy said. She was never drinking again. Drinking had probably ruined her life. 

* * *

She finished the bangs and put the wig on, studying its effect on her coloring. She looked like a different person in the vanity mirror, Darcy thought. Now for the makeup. She started with her eyes; Darcy traced a thin black line around her eyes, then thickened the flick at the outer corners. This was a heavy eye. Liquid eyeliner was just the beginning. Darcy smudged dark brown shadow on her upper lids and layered on mascara. She didn’t need to be too careful; Bardot’s eye makeup was a little messy. It was the opposite of her usual red lips and precise forties-inspired eye makeup. She dug around, looking for her favorite, too expensive, blush NARS Orgasm. She pressed it into her cheekbones and tried not to think about Brock. He hadn’t called. Should she call? She didn’t know what to do or what she wanted. Darcy sighed. She had made notes for this look. To refocus, Darcy thumbed through them. 

She’d read an interview with the makeup artist Charlotte Tilbury that suggested lining your lips with pale lipliner while smiling to get a Bardot inspired full pout. Tracing lipliner over a wide smile looked crazy, but it was worth a try. She followed the liner with a swipe of MAC’s nude Honeylove lipstick. Darcy thought her mouth looked strange in pale shades, which was why she usually wore deep colors. She studied her reflection. The makeup was still missing _something_. She looked over her makeup critically, then spotted the right cream compact. Stroking golden highlighter on her cheeks—Brigitte liked a good tan—gave her the idea to comb some through her brows as well. “Hey, Jane, come tell me if my brows look fake?” Darcy called out. 

“Sure!” Jane yelled back. 

“This is the easiest fricking makeup,” Darcy said. She dabbed a touch of golden highlighter at the edge of her upper lip. "I see why people love it now."

“Whoa,” Jane said. 

“What?”

“You look like someone totally different,” Jane said. “Again. But a whole new different this time.”

“But do my eyebrows look weird?” Darcy said.

”Hmm,” Jane said. “They look a little...product-y?”

”Yeah,” Darcy agreed. She wiped her brows with a tissue. “I never think brow products look right,” she said sadly.

”Are you filming today?” Jane asked.

”Nope,” Darcy said. “Can I have some ice cream?”

”I’ll get you a spoon,” the scientist said.   
  
  


* * *

Darcy was trying to pout in the mirror when her phone dinged with a video call. “Shit,” she said. It was Brock. “Hello?” Darcy said nervously, as the screen opened on his face. His expression changed.

“Darcy?” he said. He sounded shocked.

“Hi,” she said.

“You’re blonde now?” Brock said. His bedroom was visible behind him.

“It’s a wig. For a tutorial,” Darcy said, trying not to giggle. He looked like a stunned fish. She bit her lip a little. “I am _supposed_ to be Brigitte Bardot.”

“You look good,” he said. “Real good.” Brock stared at her for a second, blinking. She almost thought they’d lost the connection. But he cleared his throat. “So, uh, I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay after last night.”

“I’m fine,” Darcy said, feeling a little offended by his tone. Did he think she was just waiting for his call? That schmuck! 

“We were shitfaced drunk,” he said sheepishly. “So, uh…”

“Yeah,” she said stiffly. “ _You_ certainly were very drunk.” He chuckled. 

“Yeah. I was. But we’re okay, right?” he said, smile falling a bit.

”Sure,” Darcy lied smoothly. There was a pause.

“I’ve never, uh, hooked up with somebody like that,” he said, rubbing his jaw. 

“Oh, really?” Darcy said archly. She didn’t actually believe him. That emboldened her. “Are you bullshitting me, Rumlow?” she asked. 

“No, no,” he said, gesturing wildly. “Sweetheart, that was my first Zoom hookup. It was, uh, memorable.”

“I can’t say it was my first,” Darcy said coolly. 

“Oh, man, you did not cut me like that,” he said, grinning. “Shit, Lewis.” Darcy realized he was blushing as he smiled.

“The only Zoom virgin last night was you,” Darcy said wryly. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered, rubbing his face. 

“Again?” Darcy said sarcastically. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said, voice low. Then he frowned. “Not to pressure you.”

“I’m sober, let me remind you,” she told Brock. “So, don’t think I’m so easily led, just because you're in your bedroom again.”

“That right?” he said. He was beginning to speak when there was noise on his end of the line. “Fal,” Brock said complainingly. 

“I need to ask Darcy a question about what primer she uses—-oh my God, you look incredible!” Fallon yelled. “Doesn’t she look great? Ma!”

"Why are you calling her in here?" Brock said. Angela appeared at the edge of the phone frame as Brock sighed heavily. 

“What?” Angela said.

“Look how great Darcy looks as a blonde,” Fallon said.

“Oh, honey, you look wonderful,” Angela said. “Very glamorous. Who is this?”

“Brigitte Bardot,” Darcy said. 

“Ohhhh,” Angela said. “She was a beautiful woman.”

“Total babe,” Fallon echoed. 

“Right?” Darcy said, aiming for coolness. “I’m sad she’s gone all rightwing extremist now, but I love her 60s look.”

“She’s gone rightwing what?” Fallon said. 

“Yeah,” Darcy said, nodding. “She went into animal rights, which I can get behind, but somehow that turned into her going all anti-halal meat and anti-Muslim immigrant. She’s a supporter of that Le Pen party now. They’re basically fascist--against immigrants and stuff like that.”

“Oh my God,” Fallon said. “I did not know they even had people like that in France!” Brock snorted.

“Fal,” he said. “There are people like that everywhere.”

“Well, excuse me, I didn’t know,” Fallon said. They started to bicker.

“Don’t scold your sister,” Angela chided. Neither of them paid attention to her. Angela looked at Darcy. “You look beautiful, honey,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll be nice for your little video followers.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said, grinning.

“Well, _I_ didn’t travel all over Europe with the secret Nazis,” Fallon was saying to Brock, “so how was I supposed to know?”

“It’s a fucking thing people know,” Brock said, shaking his head. He pointed at the phone. “Darcy knows!” he said.

“Excuse me!” Darcy said. “I have something to say!”

“Darcy is talking,” Angela said, poking Brock in the shoulder. “I need to go back to the kitchen. Pay attention.”

“Ow, Ma,” he said. He looked at the screen. “Yeah?”

“Bye, Angela!” Darcy said, as she moved away.

“Bye, honey!” Angela said, disappearing, presumably, into the kitchen. 

“What did you want to say?” Brock said.

“Don’t yell at your sister, I studied political science,” Darcy said. He nodded. “And my knowledge base isn’t exactly normal,” she added. “So, don’t be an asshole.” Fallon snorted. 

“She called you an asshole!” Fallon said, laughing gleefully. Darcy shared a moment of eye contact with Brock. 

“I never say anything that isn’t true,” Darcy said.

Darcy was getting ready for bed--pajamas on, skincare routine halfway through--when her phone rang again. It was Brock. She sighed, put down her micellar water, and hit a button. “Hello?” she said. The screen opened to his chin and nose. “Brock?” she asked, as the screen wobbled.

“Why you mad at me?” he said, sounding wasted. He looked wasted.

“What?” Darcy said. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “But you’re pissed at me. I can tell. You called me an asshole.” Darcy sighed, aggrieved.

“You wanna do this now? Drunk and in your childhood bedroom?” she said. “Aren’t you too old for this stuff?”

“Hey! Hey!” he said. “Mean.”

“Yeah, well,” Darcy grumbled. “You were all _we’re okay, right_ first.”

“You said you were okay!” Brock said.

“I’m not okay!” Darcy said. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Oh,” he said. “Why?” He gave her a frankly perplexed look.

“I’ve never had Zoom sex with somebody I wasn’t already having real sex with!” Darcy burst out. “This is weird, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. 

“I think--maybe--we should go back to being friends,” Darcy said. She waited for him to respond. It looked like he’d closed his eyes, but the screen could be glitching. “Brock?” she said. He opened them.

“Okay,” he said. 

“It’ll be just like before,” Darcy said, feeling even more embarrassed. He hadn’t even put up a fight.

“Yeah,” he said. “I gotta go.” He hung up abruptly. Darcy stared at the darkened screen.

“Asshole!” she said involuntarily.

* * *

“Who wants coffee?” Angela said, getting up from the table after breakfast. “I think I’m going to make another pot.”

“I do,” Fallon said. “Thanks, Ma.”

“You’re welcome,” Angela said. “You want that new French vanilla your Aunt Anita got?”

“Brock?” Fallon said.

“Whatever you want is fine,” he said glumly. 

“Okay,” Angela said. 

“French vanilla then,” Fallon said. Fallon looked at her brother as their mother disappeared into the kitchen. Across the breakfast table, Brock sighed. “What’s wrong with you?” Fallon asked. He’d been sullen and silent all day yesterday, too. Pouty. It was annoying. 

“Nothing,” he said.

“Bullshit,” Fallon whispered, leaning in so their mother wouldn’t overhear. “Spill it, jerkface.”

“Darcy and I--” he said, then closed his mouth. “Nothing. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it, okay?” he said bluntly.

“Fine,” Fallon said. She made sure to clatter her fork in the ensuing silence. He sighed again. “Chickenshit,” she cracked. He looked up at her.

“Shut up,” he said. She made chicken noises. “Goddammit!” Brock said. 

“Well?” Fallon said.

“She--we hooked up, okay? And now things are fucking weird and she wants to be friends,” he said, rubbing his face in his hands.

“You told me it wasn’t like that! And you’d already slept with her? Liar!” Fallon said.

“No, look--it was a laptop thing,” he said. 

“What?” Fallon said. Brock leaned forward to whisper. 

“The other night on Zoom. You and Ma were out, we had dinner, I took the fucking laptop upstairs,” he said slowly. “We’d both been drinking.”

“Oh my God, you perv!” Fallon said.

“Shhhh! Ma’ll hear you!” he said.

“You Jeffrey Toobin’d Caramel von Squeeze?” Fallon said. “Ewwwww.” She shook her head. “Why do men think we wanna see them whip it out like that?” his sister wondered, curling her nose in distaste. 

“She wanted it,” Brock insisted. 

“Yeah, right,” Fallon said.

“She undressed first!” he said defensively, as their mother came back into the kitchen. He shut his mouth abruptly. 

“Coffee’s brewing,” Angela said, sitting down. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Brock said, as Fallon unsuccessfully tried to hold in her giggles.

“Nobody’s going to tell me? Fine,” Angela said.

“Don’t,” Brock said.

“HehookedupwithDarcy!” Fallon said, between peals of laughter.

“What?” her mother said.

“Jesus Christ, Fal,” Brock complained. “I’m, uh, interested in Darcy--”

“Uh-huh,” Angela said.

“You knew?” he said.

“You’re nice to her and she’s a beautiful, funny, smart girl,” Angela said. “It’s not rocket science.”

“He took out his rocket and now she’s not interested!” Fallon said, holding her stomach as she laughed.

“Will you shut up?” Brock said. He sighed.

“You did what?” Angela said. 

“We--I, uh, messed up,” he said slowly. “I need to figure out how to apologize.”

* * *

Darcy was recording her Brigitte Bardot tutorial when her doorbell rang. “Shit,” she said, turning off the camera. She went to the door, eye makeup half done, and opened it. 

“Candy gram!” the woman on the doorstep said. She handed Darcy a bouquet of Reese’s Cups. 

“Uh, thanks,” Darcy said. She shut the door and checked the card. Written on the inside was a short message. _I messed up. Have dinner with me next week? -Brock._

“Who was that?” Jane said, stepping out of the kitchen.

“Brock sent me a candy gram,” Darcy said. She set the candy bouquet on the coffee table.

“That’s nice,” Jane said. “You know, it’s great how you two are friends without it getting sexual or weird. Real platonic friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your obligatory reminder of how great Brigitte Bardot's 60s makeup was:  
> 
> 
> And Kat Dennings in a blonde wig and Bardot-esque dark eyes and nude lipstick:  
> 
> 
> Charlotte Tilbury's 60s cat-eye tutorial, which is GREAT. She does amazing tutorials, especially for that whole 60s smoky eye, soft lip look. They're wonderful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fylB5yXczWo


End file.
